


Captain America 2: The Dance-Off

by Spurlunk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dance, Friendship, Multi, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spurlunk/pseuds/Spurlunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this in an hour and didn't get anyone to beta it, so all mistakes are mine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Captain America 2: The Dance-Off

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in an hour and didn't get anyone to beta it, so all mistakes are mine.

 

Steve told Bucky it was too dangerous. They had never managed to pull off the lift when they were rehearsing, and on stage, in front of all those people, not only could they fall, but they could get hurt! Bucky kept telling Steve that they needed the prize money, the two of them combined had barely earned enough money to pay rent and keep food on the table for the both of them, and that some risks were worth taking.

Steve knew it was going to happen before it did. The whole scene played out in slow motion, with Bucky running at him and Steve lifting him up, but the angle was wrong and Steve twisted his body to try to keep them on their feet but he fell, dropping Bucky first, and there was a sickening crack as he landed on top of him. Bucky had broken his arm.

They had argued about it, when Steve visited Bucky at the hospital. Bucky said it was his own fault for trying the lift even when he knew it was dangerous. Steve said it was his fault for dropping him, for letting him fall. Bucky told Steve to get out, Steve told Bucky he'd never leave him. Bucky disappeared in the middle of the night and didn't come back.

 

Steve decided he had enough of dancing for a while. Then, one summer afternoon about a year later, he was walking in the park when he stumbled upon a dance class. A tall, dark, and handsome young man was teaching a gaggle of small children to the tune of some upbeat hip-hop music coming out of iPod speakers balanced against a tree stump. They looked like they were having a blast, and Steve was immediately attracted to their teacher. He found a bench close enough that he could watch, and far away enough that he didn't look too creepy.

When the class was over, the instructor gathered his things in a duffel bag he slung across his shoulder, and walked right over to Steve, who sat frozen in place. He took a seat on Steve's left, and grinned, holding out his hand for him to shake. He was stunningly handsome close up. Steve shook his hand.

"Hi there, I'm Sam. I saw you watching the dance class. You have a look in your eyes like you wish you could be one of my students," he said.

"I'm Steve, it's nice to meet you. I don't dance anymore."

"Anymore?" Sam asked.

"There was an accident, my partner left me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. If you ever need a new partner, I'm available."

Steve looked at Sam, not sure if he was joking.

"I don't dance hip-hop. I'm a ballroom dancer," he said.

"We can adjust styles, it's more about compatibility as people. There's a dance-off next month, you know. I'm thinking of putting together a crew to compete, I could use the prize money. Wouldn't have to have class in the park, you know? I'd actually be able to rent a studio," Sam explained, pulling out a crumpled flyer and pushing it into Steve's hands.

"I've never done anything like that before, I wouldn't know where to start - "

"I'm a teacher, it's what I do! Meet me back here tomorrow, same time. Cool?"

"Okay. Cool." Steve said. Sam grinned, Steve held out his hand for him to shake again, but Sam took it and pulled his new friend into a hug, squeezing him tight briefly, and letting go, heading off down the street. Steve stood up slowly, still trying to process what had just happened.

 

Steve made Natasha come with him the next day. For moral support. Sam's face did not fall when he saw Steve walk up with Natasha, instead his smile grew wider, and he shook her hand happily.

"Hi! I'm Sam," he said. Natasha, usually stone-faced, seemingly could not help but smile back.

"I'm Natasha."

"Do you dance too?" he asked.

"Yes, I did ballet when I was a girl, and recently I've done some break dancing."

"You didn't tell me you know how to break dance!" Steve exclaimed. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know everything about me. You don't know a fraction of everything about me."

Sam grinned, and took Steve's hand, leading him out onto the grass. He hit play on his iPod, and some very distinctly not-hip-hop music came out.

"Okay, Steve, ballroom dancer extraordinaire. Show me what you can do."

Steve took Sam's hand, blushing a little, and Sam put his hand on Steve's waist. They danced to the music, Natasha an appreciative audience. When the song ended, they broke apart, and Sam nodded.

"I can work with that," he said, clearly looking Steve up and down. Steve was glad he'd worn a loose T-shirt and baggy sweatpants.

"Okay, Nat, show me what you can do," Sam said, turning the music to something a lot more dance-pop. Natasha took a tie off her wrist and tied her hair up in a ponytail, then without any sort of preamble, flipped onto the grass, moving and twisting and turning like her bones were made of jelly. Steve had seen her dance before, but that was ballet. He knew she was graceful, but he had no idea she was so flexible. It was Steve and Sam's turn to be the appreciative audience, and they clapped heartily when she was done, not even breaking a sweat.

"Perfect! With the three of us together, and a little bit of training and teamwork, we're going to kick ass at the dance-off!"

 

The next two months were filled with rehearsals and rehearsals, and Steve was so busy he almost didn't have time to think about anything else. Sam was helping him figure out how to move his bodies in completely new ways, and Steve was helping Sam do the same. Natasha, unfairly enough, seemed to be able to pick anything up instantly, so she spent her time coming up with names and outfits for each of them. She deemed herself Black Widow, and wore red leggings, a white tank top, and a red leather jacket that matched her bright red and white high top sneakers. Sam got high top sneakers too, but his were blue with silver wings painted on the sides, because his name would be Falcon. She got him a blue bow-tie and suspenders to wear with skinny jeans. Finally, Steve, she decided, wore red, white, and blue, bringing the two of them together.

"I look like the American flag," he complained when he saw the outfit she'd picked out.

"Exactly. The golden boy. Captain America. That's your name," she said.

"Suits him," Sam replied, examining his own outfit.

Then, they were ready to dance.

 

The first few rounds went off without a hitch. Sam stayed to watch the other teams perform, but Steve and Nat preferred to stay backstage, to make sure that they were in the right headspace. Then it was the finals. Steve hadn't thought they would get that far, but they had. They stood on stage, facing the other team. They were called Hydra. Sam said he'd heard of them. There were rumors that they were involved in illegal activities and sometimes they bribed judges to get into competitions that they hadn't been good enough for, but lately, they had been winning on sheer talent.

"It's because they got a new member, about six months ago. They call him the Winter Soldier," Sam whispered in Steve's ear.

"Which one is he?" Steve asked, but as Hydra began to dance, it became clear that he was the one in the dark mask, wearing a hoodie with one sleeve cut off to expose an intricate tattoo sleeve running up his entire arm. He was such a good dancer it was almost inhuman, and he brought out the best in his teammates as well. They would be hard to beat. Hydra got all up in Steve, Sam, and Nat's faces, dancing aggressively to the dance beat. Then, as the music reached a crescendo, the Winter Soldier dramatically flung off his mask and threw it to the floor.

"BUCKY?" Steve and Natasha exclaimed at the same time.

"HOW COULD YOU?" Natasha said.

"YOU'RE ALL HEALED!" Steve said.

"IT'S TIME TO DANCE!" Sam said.

So they did. It was fabulous. The mix of Steve's ballroom dance training, Sam's hip-hop dance training, and Natasha's ballet and break dancing proved to be a mesmerizing mash-up of true teamwork. The whole time, Steve couldn't help feeling a profound joy in his heart, one that he hadn't felt since dancing with Bucky. He was so glad his friend was here, and he felt so bad about the time they had spent apart, he poured all of his emotion into the dance. It showed. By the time they came to a halt, breathing hard into the deafening silence after the music ended, Steve looked up to see Bucky begin to cry, a single tear falling down his face, past the extravagantly applied black eyeliner. Then another tear fell, and Bucky ran into Steve's arms, grabbing him in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'M SO SORRY, STEVE, YOUR DANCE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. I NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN WITH HYDRA IN THE FIRST PLACE. NOW I KNOW THAT IT IS WITH YOU I TRULY BELONG. WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE ME?" he exclaimed.

"Forgive you? There's nothing to forgive! I only hope you can forgive me for being such a bad friend to you this past year!"

"Aww," Natasha sighed from behind them, and they moved apart, remembering where they were. Bucky didn't spare a glance back at his team, instead interlocking arms with Steve and Natasha, as Sam got on Steve's left, waiting with bated breath for the results of the competition. Steve spared a glance over at Hydra. They looked like they knew what was going to happen, and had already given up.

"And the winner is .... CAPTAIN AMERICA, BLACK WIDOW, AND THE FALCON!"

The room exploded into cheers and applause. Steve beamed at his friends. This was the happiest he'd ever been. His old friend Bucky on his right, and his new friend Sam on his left, dancing together for friendship and freedom.


End file.
